The Moon's Child
by Clockworksoldiergirl
Summary: "I knew what I'd seen. I was 6, in Manhattan on holiday. I watched as a girl and a boy crossed swords with a man with golden eyes" Amaris bounces around from psych ward to psych ward. She knows what she saw though and she sticks to her story. She knows she's not crazy. She thinks... Along with her friends Cynthia and Harley she goes questing around the world.
1. Out of the cage

I was six when it happened. My father and I were in New York on holiday. The sun was beaming down and the faint wind carried the smell of the East River and wafted it throughout the city. The streets were busy and full and the sound of traffic was a constant drone, broken up by the beeping of horns. What no one else saw but me was the unnatural blue lights that shone through the city they shone in the midday sun and seemed to bounce off the highest point of the empire state building. " Daddy!" I said in delight. " Look at the pretty lights!" He just laughed and started singing along with an old Led Zeppelin song on the radio. He loved Led Zeppelin. " I look like Jimmy Page." He always said. I always agreed with him, even though I had no idea who Jimmy Page was. The strangest thing about that day was that I was perfectly content, the sun was shining and I was happy. In fairy tales when something goes wrong, it's dark, the sky is stormy, everything is bleak and grey and the only things that can be seen are clouds and somber faces. That day wasn't like that. Then my father fell asleep. The car stalled and around us the whole city went silent. I cried and begged for my father to wake up but he remained silent and unresponsive. I pounded on the doors and windows but the car was locked and the doors jammed by the traffic on either side. For three days I was trapped in that car, half starving and dying of thirst.

When my dad woke up I should have been relieved, but my world was in chaos. We stumbled out of the car and were caught up in the throng of screaming people. Looking back, I don't think anyone really knew what was going on. They were just scared. I wish I didn't know, but I did. That day, I screamed as a giant made of storm clouds knocked down buildings with fists like wrecking balls. I saw a black haired boy lead a legion of the dead against the hordes of hell. I watched as a dark haired boy and a blonde girl crossed swords with a man with golden eyes. My father died that day.

I knew what I'd seen. Even as I was bounced around from foster home to foster home to waiting room to psych ward. I stuck to my story. I knew I wasn't crazy. I did… I think…

I didn't care if the whole world was against me on this. I knew what I'd seen.

The place where I am is white. White walls, white floor, white bed, white bedspread. There is even a vase of white roses on the bedside table. The only personal items in this room are a book of greek mythology sitting on my bedside table that used to belong to my father and the metal bracelet around my wrist. It is a simple chain with a metal plate attached to it. I run my fingers over the caduceus symbol and the words that read out

Amaris Thomson

Schizophrenia

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

Along with a sequence of numbers that means nothing to me.

This is just the latest of many Psychiatric wards. I bounce around between them a lot but this one is particularly bad. The door clicks open and my nurse walks into the room. It has been a week and I still haven't bothered to learn her name. " Up you come dearie." she says, as if I am some geriatric old woman who can't even stand on her own.

I brush off her hand and shrug into the scrubs that she has brought for me to wear today.

When she goes to open the door for me I walk straight past her and make my way to the cafeteria where they serve dry toast and fruit loops and slimy boiled eggs are a delicacy.

The cafeteria is a gloomy place just row upon row of steel benches and gloomy faces.

I walk past rows of people to a table in the back of the room where a single girl sits. She has her head bent over a book the size of her torso, her blond pixie cut unbrushed, her lips moving silently forming words that only make sense to her. I pull out the chair across from her and place my bowl down. "Soggy weetbix and canned peaches past their expiration date." I announce like a gameshow host. "And here we have our special, a meat free, vegetarian option." I slide a glass of water towards her. Cynthia barley spares me a glance before looking back down at her book. "We're in that mood today huh?" I mutter to myself. Cynthia suffers from bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. A person with bipolar disorder will switch between extreme excitement, or mania, and depression. Schizophrenia causes symptoms that are more severe than the symptoms of bipolar disorder. People with schizophrenia experience hallucinations and delusions.

The poor girl isn't really all there. I glance down at her reading material. "You remember that the nurse doesn't like you reading horoscopes, right?"

Cynthia looks up at me. "They're coming for you, you know." Her eyes are unfocused and dreamy. I raise my eyebrows. "Is that my horoscope? Check again, It's Cancer." She stays silent. "I mean Cancer, as in my Zodiac. I don't actually have cancer. As you can see, this isn't a hospital. It's a horror house for freaks and spooks." Cynthia meets my eyes. "They're coming for you." Is all she says. "They know where you are now. They know you exist." Before I can ask her what she means one of the nurses walks up behind Cynthia and slams her book closed. Cynthia doesn't even protest. She just pushes the book away from her and slumps, laying her head on her crossed arms. Somewhere, a bell rings and there's a rush of feet as all the children get up and make their way back to their wards for lessons. Cynthia and I are lucky we are some of the oldest kids so we get our own rooms, so we head down to the library. The day passes in a mind numbing blur. The same routine, the same old people. Nothing changes within these walls.

...

I wake in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. My throat is raw. My hair is a rats nest of pale black, almost grey around my head and my peach coloured nightgown is tangled around my legs. My whole world is silent. The wind is the only sound as it swishes in and out of the cracked open window like the ocean tide. For a few seconds I sit in silence and when nothing else happens I lay back on my side and bury my head in my palm. Outside a bird trills a shrill warning call. It's almost like a scream and then it cut off abruptly, its echo fading into the night. A growling sounds from the corner of my room. I bolt upright. In the corner of the small space shines a pair of glowing eyes reflecting the light of the moon. I scream.

I jump out of bed and rush toward the door. The creature stalks out of the shadows. I pound on the door, panic racing through my head, to no avail. They lock the doors from the outside each night. I can't even flip on the lights because there is no light switch. They're designed to automatically shut off at 8:30. I curse and pull on the door handle with all my might. The monster snarls behind me. I turn, dread a heavy blanket smothering all the air. Screaming again seems pointless but I do it anyway. The monster has the face of a human and the body of a giant gold cat. A lion. Its huge paws thud against the thinly carpeted floor and its razorblade claws leave gouges in the fabric. Unfortunately, I recognise it from my book of greek mythology, it's a sphinx. This should be impossible. I know that no one is coming to the rescue. The patients here scream in their sleep often enough that the staff won't think anything of it. Just as the monster crouches to spring a silvery light emits from behind me and the door falls open. I tumble into the corridor. Scrambling to my feet I slam the door shut just as the creature crashes against the other side of it. Drawing the bolt shut I tear off down the corridor.

As I run toward the front door I contemplate the possibility that I am making this all up in my head. Schizophrenia and all that. I burst out the front doors into the cool night air of the front grounds. I look around desperately for an escape but stone walls. A quiet voice behind me says, "I told you they would come for you." I whirl to find Cynthia sitting cross legged on the stoop. "They came and now you have to leave." An unearthly howl echoes from inside the building. The sphinx is out of its cage. Cynthia jumps to her feet. She grabs me by the hand and together we race around the perimeter of the wall. When I look behind me I see the monster racing to catch up. Cynthia pushes aside a curtain of ivy to reveal a hole in the bricks of the wall. Just as the sphinx pounces on us she pushes me through and ducks after me. We roll out of the way as the sphinx's paw protrudes out of the gap. Claws reaching. Fortunately the wall is too high for the sphinx to jump over. We know this because we can hear it throwing its body at the stones repeatedly. "Cynthia!" I tug on her sleeve. " We have to go." She doesn't move. "Cynthia!" I grab her shoulders and turn her around. Blood drips from a gash on her forehead. I gasp and she collapses into my arms. I hold her up, my hands fluttering around her face. "W-what do you want me to do." Her voice is weak. "We keep going." She rises unsteadily to her feet. " I know a place not far from here, on the coast of the Long Island Sound. A place for people like us." She sounds distant. I'm hoping that her tone of voice is for the place and not the amount of blood she has lost. "And I know a way to get there.

We walk for half an hour through marshlands then trees until we start seeing lights and eventually we trek along the edge of a highway into a city. We walk for five more minutes with Cynthia gripping my neck and directing me. The blood on her face and my t-shirt has begun to dry. We turn left into a street and come to face an old oak door with an old fashioned knocker. Without hesitating, Cynthia lifts a weak hand, picks up the knocker and drops it. I can't find the strength in me to protest. A few minutes pass and then the door is opened by a boy my age. He is lanky and wears a dark blue hoodie thrown on over pale blue and checkered white pyjama pants. He has curly black hair and eyes the colour of hazelnut chocolate. "Can I help-" He sees the two of us and his voice dies away. "By the gods!" He ushers us inside. " Uh- Hi, I'm Harley. Can I help you?"

He coughs nervously. " I'm Cynthia," Cynthia says in a near whisper, " and this is Amaris. We are Half-bloods, just like you."

A/N: Hey guys. Hope you liked it. Just saying, I probably won't continue unless I have some reviews. Please feel free to do so. Tell me what you think. Any monsters you want added in. If it's complete crap (I certainly hope it isn't.)


	2. Welcome home

A/N: I just want to clarify, Amaris' opinion of the psych ward was definitely not mine. I was trying to imagine how someone who was stuck there would describe it.

Harley is a strange boy. I think… He could be perfectly normal. I have not spoken to a boy my age for years. He paces a lot twisting his fingers as if there should be something between them. He is always in motion, back and forth and back and forth while his mother tends to Cynthia's forehead. I sit uncomfortably with dried blood crusting on my nightclothes and scratching my skin. I clasp my hands in my lap and twist my bracelet around my wrist. It's the only thing I have left now. Harley's mother finishes bandaging Cynthia's head after carefully stitching up the cut. She is a heavyset woman with strong arms and a broad chest. She is a least twice my height and tiny Cynthia looks like nothing next to her. Her mouth is set in a hard line and she regards us distrustfully. I don't blame her. Two teenagers that she'd never seen before, show up on her doorstep and demand that her son take them to a place that doesn't exist. I wouldn't trust us either. " You need to change." she said. " Both of you. Have a shower and you can borrow some of Harley's clothes until yours are out of the wash. She marches off, up the stairs without looking back at us. I help Cynthia to her feet and we climb the stairs after her.

…...

When I strip off my clothes I find that my skin is stained crimson. My throat and chest are covered in blood that has soaked through my shirt. I draw back the curtain and step under the spray. The shower is warm and my legs buckle when the water hits my back. I can't remember the last time that I was able to do something of my own free will so I stay in the shower extra long just to spite the controlling nurses back at the psych ward.

When I finally get out, all the blood is gone from my skin. I dress in the oversized shirt and shorts that Harley's mom set out for me. When I exit the bathroom and make my way down the stairs Cynthia is already sitting at the table. She's not even wearing shorts as the t-shirt is so big on her that it grazes her knees. Harley is sitting next to her at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal in his lap. He looks up when I walk into the room. His mother gives me a look that could cut stone and plonks a bowl of soup down in front of me. " Mom!" Harley protests.

She points at the bowl. " Eat up. When your clothes are dry, you're leaving."

"Mum!" Harley says. " I'm taking them!" She turns to him and raises an eyebrow. " Of course you are." A small smile graces her lips. "They can stay for the night." He insists. "Then I'll take them to camp." She sighs. " Fine. I'll make up the sofabed." She shuffles out of the room. "Sorry about her," Harley says to Cynthia. He doesn't look at me, in fact he purposely avoids meeting my gaze as if I make him nervous.

" She doesn't really like new people."

"That's fine." Cynthia says distantly as ever. I raise my hand. " I for one still do not understand a thing, so bear with me when I ask … What the hell is going on?!" Harley raises his eyebrows at Cynthia. She turns toward me with a sleepy smile on her face. "It's all right Amaris. It's going to be fine. We are going to a safe place." "You keep saying that!" I explode " You keep saying that! Where are we going?! I barely know you." I point at Cynthia.

"And I only just met you." I throw my hands up in Harley's direction, " So before I go anywhere with either of you I want an explanation!"

Cynthia closes her eyes for a second, her forehead develops a little crease and she sighs. " Do you know your parents?" She asks me. The question is so unexpected that my brain freezes.

" Um.. I-I knew my dad, my Mum skipped out on us when I was little." Cynthia nodded at Harley. "I thought so.

I wave my hand in front of her face. " I'm still here, thanks. I'm still waiting for an explanation."

"It's a little hard to explain." Harley says quietly. " But tomorrow I am going to take you to someone who can help you understand." I glance at the clock and see that it's 2:00 in the morning. " I'm too tired to argue with you right now, I'm going to sleep. I'll yell at you in the morning." I flounce off toward the living room.

….

I wake up to the sound of wind rushing through a window and tyres on asphalt. I gasp and sit up so fast that my head spins. I'm in the backseat of a pick up truck going 60 miles an hour. I look around wildly. "Morning." A voice says quietly. I whip my head around to find that I am face to face with Cynthia. She's leaning over the center console to stare at me. "Breakfast." She says happily and places a brown bag in my hands. " Hope you like cinnamon." Harley says from the driver's seat, not taking his eyes off the road. "Where are we?!" I demand. "A quarter of the way to New York." Harley says. "I didn't agree to go!" I half yell. I swear Harley is smirking. "We'll we're already on the road." Cynthia says, " so you're going to have to deal with it."

I snarl and throw myself down across the seats. Harley's shoulders shake. " Something funny Philadelphia?" I ask. His expression sobers. "U-Uh no." He ducks his head. Avoiding my eyes when I glare at him in the rearview mirror. I look down to realise that I am still wearing Harley's T- shirt and shorts. " Please tell me you brought clothes." Cynthia hands me a bag of fabric. "Thank god."

"God's" Harley says under his breath.

I turn to him. " Sorry what?"

"Nothing" He says quickly.

I notice that Cynthia is wearing a T-shirt that only looks two sizes too big. "Where did you get that?"

"This is one of Harleys shirts from when he was little." Cynthia shrugs. Along with her scrub pants she almost looks like a normal teen. As if she hadn't spent the last few years of her life stuck in a mental hospital. I on the other hand probably look like a mess. Sure enough when I put my hands up to my head, my dark hair is a rats nest. I groan.

…..

When Harley pulls into the gas station I use the bathroom to change and try to fix my appearance. Not that I care. But more than a few people would be more than happy to call the cops on a group of teenagers, one of whom looks like she was dragged through a bush then shoved into a leaf shredder.

I look ridiculous. Even Harley winces when I climb into the front seat of his truck. " I'm really sorry about the clothes." He says. "It's fine." I shrug. "If we ever get stuck in the woods I can use these for kindling for a fire." Harley stifles a cough.

Cynthia climbs into the backseat. " Cynthia." Harley sounds relieved. " Thank the gods you're here- I- I mean, let's get going." His face steadily becomes a lurid shade of red. Cynthia gives me a disapproving look.

Harley fiddles with the steering wheel. Cynthia plonks a plastic bag of food down on the center console.

" Here's our lunch! 1 dollar candy bars and gas stop hot dogs." She plucks a chocolate bar out of the bag and rips open the wrapper. She takes a huge bite then moans. "Oh, it's been so long since I last had sugar." That's the funny thing about Cynthia, she has these moments of complete clarity where she almost seems completely normal but then she'll just slip away again and you'll not get another word out of her unless she wants to speak. . Harley laughs hesitantly. "Wait- are you serious?"

"Yeah" I say, " They don't let us eat any kind of sugar back in the psych ward." Harley raises his eyebrow. "Wow, that place sounds harsh."

I nod in agreement.

"Not really." Cynthia says shaking her head at me. " They were just trying to help us get better." I roll my eyes. " Anyway, how far away is our destination?" Cynthia leans over the center console. " You're in a better mood now" She says with a grin. " Oh no," I shake my head. "I'm still inconsolably angry and will execute my revenge the moment your back is turned"

. Cynthia has the nerve to laugh.

….

Cynthia is asleep on the backseat. Harley is driving, his eyes shielded against the midday sun. I'm in the passenger seat, too alert to even think about sleep. I toy with my bracelet. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by Harley who glances down. "What's that?"

I hold up my wrist. " It's my medical bracelet." I say. "It's standard issue. You have to get it from a doctor. It's a list of my disabilities in case I have a breakdown or something."

"Huh" Harley says. He probably thinks I'm a freak now. If he wasn't already tipped off by me turning up on his doorstep last night, covered in blood.

He stares at me for a few seconds. Behind us, a driver honks and our car jerks. "Eyes on the road!" I yell. He jerks his head back toward the horizon. "S-sorry." He stares straight ahead, his hands stiff on the wheel. "I-I'm not good with organic life forms. Neither is my brother, he always said that." I raise an eyebrow at him. "You have siblings?"

He laughs. "I have 21 of them." I gape at him. "You can't be serious?!" "It's a long story." Harley says. "And there'll be time for it later, we're here." He stops the car on a deserted strip of country lane. I open the car door to the smell of strawberries baking in the heat. I open the back door and shake Cynthia awake. "We're here. Wherever here is."

Cynthia is instantly up and alert. On her feet, light as a pixie. I can practically see the nervous energy radiating off Harley. "Come on!" He says and takes off through the trees.

We follow him until we crest a hill and break through the trees. I gasp, Long Island Sound is spread out below us. Nestled in is a campsite. Cabins are scattered through the woods. Strawberries grow in the fields nearby. A climbing wall spews what looks like lava. Harley walks forward a couple of steps toward a magnificent pine tree. It has a shimmering fleece strung in its lower branches. When I look closer, I gasp. Curled around the base of the tree is a snoring dragon. Its inner eyelid closed over amber eyes. "Welcome to Camp Half Blood." Harley says, and his voice almost like a sigh. "Welcome home."


	3. The Gods are still alive

As we walk through the camp, I notice that it is almost deserted. Two boys are shooting hoops on the basketball court. A couple of burly looking kids are polishing armour at a nearby shed. They stop to give us odd looks. (I don't blame them.) Harley leads up to a giant ranch house with a wraparound porch. He opens the door and walks right in. "This is the big house." He says gesturing to the room. I look around and yelp. "Is that leopard head moving?!"

Harley glances over. "Oh, that's just Seymour."

"Just, Seymour?!" I shake my head. "You know what, forget it."

The furniture is mismatched and old. The armchairs overstuffed and threadbare with age. The carpet is worn down. "What are we doing here? And where is here exactly?" I demand.

"Welcome to Camp Half Blood, my dear." Says a voice behind me.

I turn to face the tallest man I've ever seen. At least, I think he is a man, until I see the horse body attached to his torso. I jump back,startled. (Just my luck. I think my week can't get any worse a man with an awful tweed jacket and the lower half of a freaking stallion shows up and welcomes me to his magic camp) "Uh, Amaris," Harley steps forward. "This is my mentor, Chiron."

Cynthia steps forward. She barely even comes up to his waist. "You're the son of the Lord of Time." She says dreamily. Her eyes are clouded over and her fingers twitch. "The golden eyed ancient one."

Chiron's horse legs shift nervously, his tail flicking, but otherwise his face does not betray his feelings. "I am indeed, my dear. And you are?"

"I am the daughter of the torch bearer." She says, her voice high and clear, "The one who guided the mother who was searching for spring." Chiron coughs nervously. "Well, welcome to Camp Half Blood, daughter of the torch bearer." He turns to Harley to avoid having to look at Cynthia.

"Harley, my boy. Maybe you should take these two ladies on a tour, show them the canoe lake and get them some new clothes from the camp store. Then you can ask Phoebe to help them out while you come back here and we can have a talk." He trots forward, his head brushing the ceiling. "With any luck, most of our campers should be here by dinnertime and with any luck, these two ladies will be claimed at the campfire. You came in on the day that camp is supposed to open. " He ushers us out the door and it shuts with a resounding click behind us.

"Uh, alright then." Harley says. " We best get going. Lunch is an hour." He steps off the porch and makes his way toward the central hearth.

"These are the cabins." He says, waving his hand around. They are squat little buildings like cubes but each one is decorated and modeled differently. "There is a whole other block over there." Harley says, gesturing toward the woods. "And when you're claimed you'll go to your parents cabin."

"My parent?" I ask. I'm completely over this cosmic joke. I think I might walk out of here right now. "I'm sorry- I can't do this anymore! I'm going home."

Cynthia whirls around to face me. Her face is twisted in frustration. "Don't you get it Amaris?! This is home now."

I glare at her in silence. " And the thing you cannot accept is that the world is bigger than you want to think it is. You are not crazy! You never were. You're just different. They lie to you! Everybody lies to you and you are to blind to see it. " Her voice rises louder than I have ever heard her talk before and she is not even shouting yet. "Amaris. You are what they call a demigod. You are the daughter of one of the Oylmpians. The ancient greek gods are still alive."

She whirls on her heel and grabs Harleys' arm. "Come on!" She says dragging him away. " Let's go to the camp store. I want to change out of these clothes."

…

A few minutes and a knocked over rack of floral patterned shirts late, I am out fitted with a sturdy pair of boots, dark blue denim jeans and an orange t-shirt that says, Camp Half Blood.

It fits perfectly, which is a welcome change to Harley's baggy T-shirts.

Chiron and Harley both look up when I come out the door. Cynthia is sitting on the porch railing looking out at the woods.

"Harley, my boy." Chiron says "Why don't you take Miss Thompson and Miss DeLa Rosa to the weapons storage to see if you can't find them blades?" Harley nods in agreement and gestures for the two of us to follow him.

We walk in silence through the camp until we reach a small shed behind the climbing wall. Harley takes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. A waft of dank musty air wafts over us and I cough and gag.

"Ooh." Cynthia claps her hands and skips into the shed. When the dust clears and I can see again, I have to admit that I am impressed.

The shed is filled with weapons of every description. Laid on racks or piled in corners.

Harley flicks on an electric light and gestures us inside the shed. Swords, spears, bows and arrows. Strange knives and throwing stars. "Wow." I admit.

"Not bad is it?" Harley says with a hint of a smile. I pick up a sword from the nearest shelf. And immediately drop it. Harley yelps and jumps out of the way.

"That's heavy!" I say, massaging my wrist. Harley bends to retrieve the blade, picking it up as easily as if it had been made of plastic. Cynthia holds up a pair of knives with two handles."I like these!"  
Harley walks over to examine them. "Balisongs. Nice."

Cynthia shakes her head. "Butterfly knives." She says gleefully. She throws one up in the air by a handle and it flips over and over until she catches it by the other handle. Harley raises his eyebrows at her. "Have you used those before? I'm pretty sure they're illegal to carry."

Cynthia grins. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal to carry that." She points to his waist.

Harley looks like she just slapped him. "How can you see that? It's coated in Mist."

I sigh and take Cynthia's arm. "Come on, Cynthia, it's your Schizophrenia acting up again."

She scowls at me and yanks her hand out of my grip. "I'm not crazy." She nods at Harley. "Show her."

Harley reaches to his hip and pulls forward with his hand. I gasp as he pulls a sword away from the sheath on his waist. It becomes visible as it loses proximity to his body.

It's a long flat blade with a handle made of silver or iron. It looks heavy.

I gape at him. "How did you do that?!" A red flush appears on Harley's cheeks. "I made it." He explains. I don't even want to know.

"Hey Harls." Says a gruff voice from the door. I turn to find two young women standing there. They are both fit and buff. They both have scars and look like they spend a good lot of their time working or fighting. One of the girls has a swollen lip. The bigger of the two women holds out her arms. Harley embraces her. "Nyssa." He sighs. "I missed you."

She laughs. "Same to you kiddo." Harley turns to the other girl and embraces her as well. "What happened to your lip?" He asks.

"A drakon in central park." The girl says. Harley laughs and turns to us. "Amaris, Cynthia. This is Clarisse" He gestures to the girl with the split lip, "Daughter of Ares and Nyssa, My sister." I raise my eyebrow and glance between them. The two don't look anything alike.

"Half siblings." Nyssa clarifies at my look. "Same dad, different mums." I think I am beginning to get it.

Nyssa eyes the balisongs in Cynthia's hands. "Those are nice. Old but nice." She crosses to a shelf in the back and reached to the side of it. She retrieves something small and short . It's a sword with a double edged blade that looks delicate and deadly at the same time. "This is a kindjal." She says. "It's a Russian blade. Try it out." She places it in Cynthia's hands.

Cynthia's eyes widen. "Oh wow. It's really light." Nyssa grins proudly. "I made this one myself."

Cynthia runs her hands lovingly over the silver filigree on the handle. "Do you see anything you like, girl?" Clarisse asks.

"I have a name." I tell her snappily.

"I know." She grins. "So, you see anything you like?" At random I snatch a spear off a rack.

Clarrise shakes her head. " Not with that body of yours. You're not tall enough." She picks up an object covered in dust. "Try this out."

It's a leather belt with a blade sheathed on each side. I pull one of them out. It's a long knife, the blade is wicked and the length of my shoulder to my elbow. The handle is wrapped in black cotton cloth. "It's an ancient hunting blade." Clarisse says. "I'm not sure what time they're from." She takes the knife from me and slides the other one out of its sheath. "You hold them like this." She demonstrates by wrapping her hands around the handles with her pointer finger toward the tip of the knife. The sharp edge perpendicular to the ground. I consider them for a moment. Then a silvery gleam in the corner of the shed catches my eye. Slowly, I step toward it. I retrieve the item and slowly brush off sixteen years worth of dust. It's a silvery bow. Curved and supple. With a crescent moon carved into the wood. Clarisse looks over and her eyes widen imperceptibly. "Where did you find that?" She asks. "Uh." I gesture to the corner. Clarisse takes the bow from my hands and turns it over. She traces her fingers over two letters carved, just where the bow string meets the wood. " This belonged to a girl I used to know." Clarisse says. " Her name was Zoe Nightshade. She was a hunter." She hands the bow back to me. " I think she would be happy to see her weapon used again." Far off in the distance, we hear the clanging of a brass bell. " It's lunchtime." Harley says. "And we better get going. Mr D doesn't like it when people are late."


	4. Daughter of Magic

A/N:

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I just had my weeks of high school and my life is really hectic.

The camp is starting to fill up. When we get to the dining hall there are about forty campers seated at the long wooden tables. Harley gestures for me to sit and leaves to get Cynthia and I some food.

I struggle to sit comfortably with the two sheathes. He returns balancing three trays on his arms. (How is he still wearing a sweatshirt in summer?) He slides them onto the table. "Bring those and come with me." We frown at each other and then scoop up our trays and follow him. He leads us over to a bronze brazier. The flame is burning an unnatural golden colour. Harley scrapes some of his food into the flames "Dude!" I protest. "That was a waste of good barbecue!"

Harley sends a glare over his shoulder. He glances up at the sky. "Hey Dad, I just wanted to thank you for allowing me to reach camp safely and I pray to you that my friends are claimed at the campfire tonight." He turns back to us. "This is a brazier. We use it to burn offerings for the gods. In ancient times they used to slaughter animals to pay tribute but we figure that this is the better option."

"Who is your father?" Cynthia asks.

Harley rubs the back of his neck. " My father is Hephaestus the God of Blacksmiths." Cynthia nods like it's no big deal. Meanwhile, my jaw is almost on the floor. "Hephaestus? As in the Hephaestus?!"

Cynthia gives me a look. The kind of pitying glance that someone gives to a person that they think is particularly slow. Cynthia steps forward and dumps a portion of her meal into the flames. "Mother." She says closing her eyes. "I know who you are, but if you claim me at the bonfire tonight, that would be much appreciated." Harley raises his eyebrows at her. The smoke drifting upwards doesn't smell like the beef brisket she put in. Instead, it smells sweet and rich. Like cinnamon or burnt brown sugar. Cynthia steps back and gestures for me to come forward. I shake my head and back away. "I'm not doing that."

"Why not?" Cynthia asks. I turn my back on the braizure and walk away. "For one, I'm an atheist. And two, I'm still not sure you're telling the truth."

Cynthia rolls her eyes at me, but it's more tired than anything else. She leads us over to an empty table and Harley slides down on the bench beside her. I plonk myself down on her other side and gingerly place my bow and quiver on the table. The silver gleams dully in the sunlight.

"We won't get to sit just anywhere when everyone comes back." Harley tells us. "You sit with your cabin." Neither of us replies.

We eat in silence, the chatter of the other campers filling the void between the three of us. Harley keeps glancing sideways, as if I might suddenly stab him with a fork. Then Harley's head snaps up. I follow his gaze to see two boys walk into the pavilion. One has curly brown hair and has grease stains on his face. The other has shaggy black locks and pale skin, he is dressed all in black and has a wicked looking black sword strapped at his waist.

"What's up everyone?!" The brown haired boy crows. "Leo McShizzle in the house!" The dark haired boy rolls his eyes at the other. "And look who I brought!" The curly haired kid had the kind of manic smile that you would cross the street to avoid "Death boy!"

"This is why everyone- ''Death boy began, but he didn't get to finish his sentence because he was tackled by a blonde boy who came rushing out of the crowd at him. The two fell to the ground with a thump. "Will!" The dark haired boy protests from his position, pinned under the boy called Will. Will laughs and hauls to his feet planting a kiss on the corner of the other boy's mouth. Even though there aren't many people around, the dark haired demigod flushes a bright red and buries his face in Will's shoulder. I fiddle with my bracelet, turning it around my wrist as I watch the curly haired kid greet Will. Then he looks over and smiles even wider than before. He grabbed the dark haired kid and Will by the wrists and drags them over to our table.

"Harley!" He says, his smile turning into something softer. Harley stands up to hug him. "Hey Leo." He turns to look at us.

"Amaris, Cynthia. This is my big brother Leo." He spoke the words with such pride and joy that I didn't have the heart to ignore him, instead, I offer Leo a genuine albeit small smile. Cynthia grins at him. "Hello, fire eater."

Leo nods at her, not even fazed. "What's up, crazy." He glances sideways at Harley. "Dude, you have to stop growing. You're already taller than me!" (Granted, that wasn't hard. Leo was tiny.) "I remember when you were this small." Leo held his hand at his waist. "I might have to start borrowing Pipers heels." My mouth quirkes upwards.

"You better not." Will snorts. "Remember what happened last time?"

Leo winces at the presumably painful memory. "Those stains didn't come out of a week."

"Anyway." Harley says. "Amaris, Cynthia, this is Will Solace and his boyfriend-"

"The Ghost King." The words come from Cynthia's mouth. "Who holds the key to endless death." The dark haired boy looks at her in surprise. "I haven't heard those lines for a while now. How do you know them?" Cynthia shakes her head dreamily. I was really worried about her, without her meds, her bipolar disorder was really acting up. "In the stars." She replies.

"Anyway." Harley intervenes quickly and I shoot him a grateful glance. "This is Nico di Angelo." The boy inclines his head but he doesn't smile. Will elbows him in the ribs. "Don't mind him. He's just grumpy 'cause he hasn't had breakfast yet."

Nico frowns. "Shove off Solace." Leo blows out his lips and ruffles Nico's hair. "You wouldn't believe how much grumbling I had to put up with on the way here."

"Watch it Fireboy." Nico bats Leo's hand away and scowls even more fiercely. "Or I'll remove one of your limbs."

Leo quickly shoved his hands into his pockets.

The rest of the day passed quickly and uneventfully. Harley showed us around the rest of Camp Halfblood, though he seems an extremely unwilling guide. The camp slowly gains new arrivals as Demigods straggle over the camp boundaries. Cynthia and I get to meet some of them but the real excitement comes when the sound of helicopter blades could be heard echoing through the camp.

A chopper appeared over the hill, it was sleek black and had the letters D.E in red paint along the side. It landed in the middle of the Camp green and out of it stepped a girl with hair the colour of autumn leaves. She wears a preppy uniform with a pleated skirt and neatly pressed blouse.

She looks like a bohemian schoolgirl, with her marker covered backpack, a peace sign stitched into the side of her green hightops and the braided headband shoved messily into her hair. 

A few of the campers ran to greet her, voices raised over the whoop-whoop of the copter blades. The red haired girl smiles at them and says something that makes them all laugh.

"Rachel's here." Harley's face lights up like a lamp. "Come on." He doesn't even wait for us to follow, just takes off. Jogging over the camp green.

He reaches the girl and throws his arms around her, even though he has to bend down to do it. She reaches up her arms to twine them around his neck. When he finally releases her, his face is alight. "Rachel, how have you been? How is managing your father's company?" Rachel gave out a high pitched snort of laughter. "Oh, I got fired from that. I now am the proud owner of an urban art gallery. It's a non profit organisation."

Harley smiles at her, obvious affection in his gaze. Chiron canters up in full stallion form. "Rachel, my dear." There is evident relief in his voice. "You are late, I was beginning to worry."

Rachel laughs and shakes her head. "Just helicopter troubles." Cynthia and I stand off awkwardly to the side until the campers trickle away. Harley beckons us forward. "Guys, this is Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Rachel, this is-"

"Cynthia," The girl interrupts. "And Amaris. Yes, I've been expecting you." Harley shoots her a sideways questioning look but doesn't say anything.

I hold out my hand to Rachel. "I've seen enough weird stuff today that I'm not even going to question it." Rachel smiles and takes my hand, her grip firm. I step back after she releases me. Cynthia reaches out, a grin on her face, but as soon as she touches Rachels hand, the smile disappears. "You're her." She says, "The Snake Oracle." She closes her eyes. Rachel frowns, but then Cynthia begins to speak in a voice that is not entirely hers. It's high and melodious and resonating.

"Daughter of the Moon ventures to the place of death.

Through the place of a hero's dying breath."

Rachel opens her mouth, maybe to stop her, but then her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into Harley's arms.

"The Daughter of Magic must lend a hand

Child of Fire must also take a stand. "

Their voices blend together. High and lyrical, and deep and gravelly.

"The silver titan they must find.

God of the sun, they must unbind."

Then Rachel's voice dies away and its only Cynthia speaking.

"The Starbound huntress will lead the way

The Autumn Solstice or the Moon's decay."

Cynthia's mouth snaps closed and she seems to shake herself out of a trance. Rachel opens her eyes and they flash green for a second before they fade back to a chocolate brown. She struggles to stand and Harley holds her up with a hand in her back. "Those lines.." Rachel presses her fingers to her temple. "How do you know them?"

"I don't know." Cynthia's voice is small. Chiron interrupts her, " My dear, where did you hear them?"

"I dreamed them." Rachel tells him. "All but for those two last lines. I have no idea what they mean. Or who the mentioned heros are."

"I do." Cynthia says. "The Daughter of the Moon and the Daughter of Magic and the Son of Fire."

We turn to her and I gasp. Hovering in the air above Cynthia's head, the symbol of two crossed, fiery torches." No one says anything for a long minute and during that forever, most of the campers gather back around. There is silence for a long moment then Chiron says quietly. "All hail Cynthia, Daughter of Hecate." Cynthia stares up at the symbol above her head. Her face is devoid of emotions. No surprise. No joy. The campers slowly and hesitantly each fall to a knee. Some with more reluctance than others. After Chiron has risen from his own half bow, he gestures to the campers to leave. "Put your things away my dear." He tells Rachel. "Get comfortable. Then you and I will discuss this prophecy more."

A/N:

I am really sorry for referring to Clarisse, Rachel, Leo and stuff as 'boys' and 'girls'. It's just hard for me to picture them as anything but children. Just to clarify. They're probably around 24/25. It's been 8 years since the Great prophecy and Trials of Apollo never happened.


	5. Silver Cresent Moon

The campfire that night heralds the arrival of four dozen campers. They sit in groups around the campfire which glows with unnaturally bright colours. Leo is with two girls. One has pale brown hair and looks like a goddess. Literally. And the other has kaleidoscopic eyes and choppy, chocolate brown hair. Will and Nico are beside each other, Nico's head tucked into Will's shoulder. They are joined by two other kids. One is a boy who has a maniacal expression. He looks like he just set something on fire, or possibly blown something up. The girl with them is willowy and had already introduced herself to us previously as Lou Ellen. One of Cynthia's half siblings.

Up the top of the bleachers, a girl with twin plaits is lecturing two boys with identical brown hair and crooked smiles. Cynthia, Harley and I sit at the bottom of the pavilion steps in weighted silence. In front of us, some of the campers jump around in front of us with musical instruments. One of them is playing an honest-to-goodness Saxophone.

The night air is clean and cool and the smoke from the fire drifts into the sky. In all my life, I have never seen a gathering so happy. The closest things to parties I have ever had are weekly meetings in the psych ward cafeteria. And really. Nobody wants a party where the only refreshments are soggy fries and day old meatloaf.

I still haven't taken the sheaths off. There is something comforting about having the blades strapped to my legs.

Suddenly, one of the girls screams. I see her stand up at the top of the pavilion and point towards the dark woods. Some of the other campers jump to their feet and draw weapons. Harley pulls his sword out of its sheath and it becomes visible as he pulls it away from his waist. At first, I don't see anything, but then a glowing pair of eyes emerges from the woods. The monster is the size of a small garbage truck with red eyes, bristling fur and razor blade claws. "Hell Hound!" One of the boy's cries. The creature bounds into the circle of the firelight. A few of the campers are swept off their feet by its massive tail. One of the girls gets thrown into the air and lands with a thump a few meters away. The so-called 'Hell Hound' tears down the campers and kicks up dirt in huge furrows. The girl with the kaleidoscopic eyes, who was sitting beside Leo, drew a dagger and gave a yell. "Stop!" She commanded. Her voice was so powerful that the whole camp stopped. The night seemed to hold its breath. The Hell Hound froze for a second then it bared its teeth and charged at her. She fell back with a pained grunt. "Piper!" Leo helped her struggle out of the way. Harley turned and ran up the pavilion steps, two at a time, then he turns and jumps onto the Hell Hound's back. His sword digs in between the monster's shoulder blades and it throws its head back and howls. Harley grunts and rolls off its back. His sword is still embedded in its flesh. The Hell Hound snarls at him. "Holy Hephaestus " I hear Harley mutter and then the beast charges. Without thinking, I snatch up the bow and fumble an arrow out of the quiver. I fit the arrow into the bow clumsily and draw the string back. "Harley, move!" I yell. He glances at me and dives out of the way, rolling to avoid the monsters claws. I bring the bow up to my face, and release the string. It should be an impossible shot. The Hell Hound is moving around wildly, thrashing and bucking and slavering but the arrow flies like a shaft of moonlight and buries itself in the Hell Hounds flank. It's back legs buckle. I palm my knives out of their sheathes and run forward, bringing my blades down. As soon as they make contact with the Hell Hounds flesh, it explodes into golden dust that clings to my clothes and clumps in my hair. The whole camp is silent but for the howling and chirruping of monsters in the woods. Then, one by one, all of the campers fall to their knees. Even Harley. But he stares at me in shocked silence. Chiron slowly sinks to his knees, his face dark and unreadable. "All Hail Amaris." He says. I look up and I see it. The silver crescent moon floating above my head. "Daughter of Artimus."


End file.
